


Stay With Me

by nickelkeep



Series: Nickel's Story Time Series [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anthropology, Archaeology, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Forensics, Frottage, Lovers of Modena, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, Pining, Rutting, Strangers to Lovers, there was one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 07:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep/pseuds/nickelkeep
Summary: Cas nodded and followed after Dean as they made their way to the elevator. They took the ride up in silence, Dean trying his damnedest to not stare and admire Cas. He knew that Cas humored him for the evening, listening to him rant about issues in Modena. But the looks he received in return, the smiles, the genuine interest. If there was any interest returned, Dean was screwed.The elevator dinged and the doors opened, letting them off onto their floor. They walked the few feet to their shared room, with the single bed and the probably not-as-comfortable couch. Cas unlocked the door and opened it, and Dean followed inside, turning to close it and lock it.As Dean turned back around, Cas was already sitting on the couch, taking off his shoes. He walked closer and looked at the bed before looking at Cas. "So, I was thinking."Cas looked up. "About?""We're adults, right? It's a king-size bed. There's room for both of us on there. There's no need for you to sleep on the couch. It's not like you were kicked there for doing something wrong. You haven't done anything wrong."





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Storytime #11! So, technically, this is my own prompt, cause if you go through the prompt channel on the discord server, I was the first person to share it. 😜 But since then, it's been shared at least another three or four times... So I don't know who to give credit to.
> 
> So the prompt: I know all you lovely fanficcers out there saw that one of our [favorite tropes actually happened.](https://edition.cnn.com/2019/07/26/americas/air-canada-passengers-missed-flight-trnd/index.html)
> 
> I added a twist. I incorporated the [Lovers of Modena](https://www.cnn.com/travel/article/ancient-skeletons-holding-hands-men-intl-scli/index.html)
> 
> Because I would really appreciate it if people stopped trying to erase QUILTBAG History. Got it?
> 
> xxx  
You can find me on [Tumblr](https://nickelkeep.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nickelwrites).

The flight from Italy had been fine. It honestly had, not that Dean would ever admit it. Humans were not meant to fly and being stuck in a flying metal death trap for nine hours had already put him at his wit's end. He still had one more flight to go, which would be another five hours stuck in the air. Dean cursed the fact that he had to stay behind a week, while Sam got to go home. He didn't even have his Emotional Support Brother for flying.

Dean rifled through his backpack, looking to make sure he had the Ativan for the last leg of his trip when he heard his name called through the overhead speakers. They were asking him to come and see the agent at the Gate. _This can't be good._ Dean zipped his bag back up and threw it over his shoulder and walked up to the desk.

"Hi. I'm Dean Winchester. You called me?"

The woman behind the counter smiled and braced herself. "Yes, good evening, Mr. Winchester. We're truly sorry, but it appears as though the flight is overbooked. We'll be moving you to the next available flight tomorrow morning."

"I'm sorry?" Dean tilted his head and leaned forward. "Why my ticket and not the other person's?"

"The other person is a minor flying with an adult. I apologize. We have, however, set you up at no cost to you at the nearby hotel. You also get room service on us, just tell them to bill it to the room." She handed him a pack of papers. "There is a shuttle service downstairs that can take you, and they'll bring you back for your 10:15 flight."

"Cool, no say in the matter. You guys gonna call my boss too?" Dean's shoulders fell as he turned to go to the car area to catch a ride to the hotel.

While he walked, Dean pulled out his phone and called Sam. A feminine voice answered on the second ring. "There better be a good reason why you're calling right now, Dean."

"Ew, I don't need that image in my head. Put Sam on the phone, Jo." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose as the noise from the other end of the phone indicated that it was passed off. "I swear, Sam. You had to pick her. Of all the people in the world."

Sam laughed, "What's up, Dean? We still good for this evening?"

"Nope. They kicked me off the flight, and I'm taking one in the A.M." Dean sighed. "They overbooked the flight."

"Of course they did. Need me to let Adler know, or are you going to call him?"

"Dude, you'd be a lifesaver if you could call him. I don't have the patience to deal with him right now." Dean arrived at the Shuttle stop. "Look, my flight leaves at 10:15 A.M. tomorrow. I'll text you the flight info once I'm in the hotel room. I'm about to hop in the van over there now."

"Yeah. Get some rest. Don't work yourself up over the flight, okay? We'll see you tomorrow and grab some burgers for lunch when you land."

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back as he sat down in the van. "You're awesome. I'll text you soon, Sammy." He waited until Sam said his own goodbye before disconnecting the call and taking the ride to the hotel in silence.

Once at the Hotel, Dean grabbed his backpack and headed inside. He made his way to the check-in and was greeted by the concierge. Dean got his key card and headed straight to the room. After what felt like the slowest elevator ride in the world, he got to the room and slid the key into the slot. The door chirped, in a way-too-happy tone for Dean's annoyed state, and he entered the suite.

He was pleasantly surprised by the king-size bed and large screen TV. Dean dropped his bookbag on a lounger at the foot of the bed and flopped on to the mattress. While he was still unhappy about his flight being delayed, he could enjoy the nice big bed for a night.

Dean pushed himself further back onto the bed as he kicked his shoes off. He put his arms under his head and closed his eyes, attempting to let the stress melt away from him. Just as he started to lightly doze, the annoying chirp from the door lock went off again. Dean bolted straight up and looked at the door as it opened. He ran through his head real quick, Dean didn't think that he had ordered room service or asked for something from housekeeping, had he?

A tall, trench coat draped figured entered the room. The man walked into the better lit area, and Dean took in his appearance: messy, dark brown hair, a slightly scruffy five o'clock shadow, plump, chapped lips, and beautiful blue eyes. It was like someone had plucked all of his favorite features and put them together perfectly. Dean swallowed before speaking. "I'm sorry, isn't the staff supposed to knock before entering?"

Blue eyes looked down at himself before squinting and looking at Dean. "Do I look like the staff here? This is the room booked for me because they had to change my flight."

Dean stood up. "Yeah, same here, pal. But um, this is my room. I was here first. Willing to help you get your own though." He crossed over to the phone and picked up the receiver, pressing the button for the front desk. "Yeah, hi, this is room 401. Looks like you just sent someone up here, and the room was already occupied." He slid his free hand into his pocket while waiting on a response. "Okay, that not our problem." Dean's head snapped up. "What do you mean can't we just share for a night? You realize this room with a king-size bed, not two queens?" Dean ran his hand down his face. "You're damn right I'm going to call the airline." Dean slammed the phone down and sat on the bed.

Blue Eyes crossed his arms over his chest. "Let me guess. Overbooked?"

"At capacity, but yeah." Dean pulled out his cell phone. After a few quick swipes, he had the Customer Service number for the airline. "Just making sure, you flew with Angelus, right?" When Blue Eyes nodded, Dean nodded in response and pressed the number to load it up and call it. "Good."

Dean sat back down on the bed as the other guy moved to sit on the sofa in the room. The phone prompt system was ridiculous, but Dean finally got a person on the line. "Hi. Yes. My name is Dean Winchester. I was on flight 104 from Milan, Italy to Boston, and I was waiting for my connecting flight to Salina when I was told that they had to reschedule my flight for tomorrow." He paused, biting his bottom lip in irritation. "Yes, they offered all of that. That's not the issue. The issue is that I'm in a king-size room, and they've done something similar to another guy here, and they put him in the same room as me." Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm sorry, but a half-price voucher for a future flight isn't really going to fix this for either of us. Do you really expect two strangers to share a king-size bed?" He pulled his phone away from his ear and tapped angrily at the red end button on the screen before tossing his phone on the bed.

"Can you believe it?" He turned to look at Blue Eyes. "Hotel says call Airline. Airline says call Hotel. Freakin' Catch-22!" Dean kicked at his shoe, slightly regretting that decision when he made contact with the heel of the boot.

Blue Eyes bit his bottom lip, holding back laughter. "Relax, Dean. I know it's not ideal, but I can sleep on the couch. It's actually quite comfortable, and I don't mind it. It's only for one night, and I'll be home."

Dean held up his finger, ready to question how the stranger knew his name when he realized he said it on the phone. "Well, you know my name. If we're sharing a room for the night, do I at least get yours?"

"Castiel." The other man stood up, taking off his jacket and laying it on the arm of the sofa before crossing to Dean. He extended his hand. "I know it's not the most pleasant of meetings but."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Dean took his hand and shook it. "Look, I don't know about you, but what do you say we take their hospitality for granted. We can go hit up the bar downstairs and put it on the tab. They didn't give me a limit, did they give you one?"

Castiel shook his head in the negative. "They said room service was on them, and to bill it to the room."

"You can bill the bars of these places to the room too." Dean winked. "Let's go Cas."

Dean and Cas headed down to the bar to find it pretty busy for a Thursday night. Dean shrugged and pointed to two stools at the bar proper and gently nudged Cas in that direction. As soon as they sat down, the bartender was on them.

"What can I get for you, gentlemen?"

"Two Margiekugels." He looked at Cas. "What do you want."

Cas rolled his eyes. "One of those, please." The bartender nodded and stepped away. "So you're coming home from Italy?" Cas tilted his head. "Vacation?"

"Work." Dean shook his head. "I've been out there for about 18 months. Working out in Modena."

"Beautiful area. What were you doing, if I may ask?" Cas nodded at the bartender as they dropped off their drinks.

"Was on loan to the University while working on a dig site. I'm an archaeologist." Dean took a drink of his beer. I was supposed to be out there for another six months, but we found something big, and they called both me and my brother back."

"Brother Archeologists?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope. He's a Paleontologist. He likes dinosaurs. I like Indiana Jones."

Cas laughed into his beer. "So you two picked your careers based on movies?"

"He did. I picked mine because Harrison Ford is attractive and I can't fly the Millennium Falcon." Dean took another pull of his beer. "I may have been slightly obsessed with him growing up."

"Only slightly?"

Dean pinched his fingers together to represent a little bit. "Just a little bit."

"So you were on loan? From where?"

"University of Kansas." Dean rolled his eyes. "Was going to take a semester sabbatical with Sam, go to Australia with him, cause that's like his dream dig site. Then we got offered this huge 'chance of a lifetime' to go to University of Modena. We each have to teach one class, but we get to go poke around in the Ciro Menotti Cemetery and Necropolis. Not exactly Sam's cup of tea, but a bone is a bone."

"Sounds like you wanted it though." Cas turned in his stool and leaned on his fist while Dean finished off his first beer. "Regretting it?"

"Boss was a douche bag. We were only supposed to be out there for a year. Then somehow it magically became two. I wouldn't have been surprised if it magically became three. Our find is what saved us and got us back home." Dean took a sip of his second beer. "But even that's being taken away."

"What do you mean?" Cas smiled.

"I take it you don't follow the news?" Dean sighed. "Our big find was a pair of ancient skeletons that had been buried together, holding hands. Beautiful sight, man."

"That's not common, is it?"

"Not really, no. And it's the only one found in this area." Dean smiled softly. "We unearthed 13 skeletons in total. Only these two were buried this way."

Cas took a drink of his beer and thought for a moment before commenting. "Something is bothering you about it, though. Like, you know something, and you're not allowed to say it."

"I can say it, but it's going to keep getting bashed down." Dean frowned instantly and took another swig of his beer. "The bones weren't preserved all that well. So if I wanted definitive proof, we'd need to get it to forensics. But the person who is funding the dig refuses to pay for it. So it's his PR and word over mine."

"Academia does suck like that. What is it that you want to say but aren't allowed to?" Cas leaned forward, surprising Dean that he would genuinely be interested in Dean's work.

"The uh, the couple." Dean stumbled over his words. "They were two men. All the preliminary evidence leads to it. But our sponsor is insisting that it's one male, one female. Says that it'll pull in more publicity that way. People care more about love stories, as though two men couldn't be in love." Dean licked his lips before going back to his bottle of beer.

"Yeah, that sounds like Academia." Cas shook his head. "I'm sorry your patron is doing that to your hard work. Is there anyone above him?"

"If there is, Sam and I don't know who it is. We looked." Dean finished his beer, and the bartender came back over, pointing at the bottle. "I actually think I'm good." He looked at Cas, who nodded in agreement. "Just bill it to 401, please." Dean handed the bartender the card to the room. Once it was swiped, Dean took it back and flipped it around in his fingers. "Ready to go back up?"

Cas nodded and followed after Dean as they made their way to the elevator. They took the ride up in silence, Dean trying his damnedest to not stare and admire Cas. He knew that Cas humored him for the evening, listening to him rant about issues in Modena. But the looks he received in return, the smiles, the genuine interest. If there was any interest returned, Dean was screwed.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, letting them off onto their floor. They walked the few feet to their shared room, with the single bed and the probably not-as-comfortable couch. Cas unlocked the door and opened it, and Dean followed inside, turning to close it and lock it.

As Dean turned back around, Cas was already sitting on the couch, taking off his shoes. He walked closer and looked at the bed before looking at Cas. "So, I was thinking."

Cas looked up. "About?"

"We're adults, right? It's a king-size bed. There's room for both of us on there. There's no need for you to sleep on the couch. It's not like you were kicked there for doing something wrong. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Are you sure I haven't done anything wrong?" Cas stood up and crossed the distance between them.

Dean's eyes flickered from Cas' eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. "I think you've done everything right, but please stop me if I'm wrong."

Cas hooked his finger under Dean's chin and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against his lips that left Dean wanting for more.

Dean took a deep breath in. "Yeah, you've done everything right." He chased after Cas' lips, finding them and claiming them with his own as his fingers found the belt loops of Cas' pants.

Cas pulled away and traced his hands down Dean's chest before lifting Dean's shirt up and over his head. "So the freckles are all over." Cas raised his eyebrow curiously. "I must say I wanted to know."

"You did a good job of hiding it." Dean joked as he reached to loosen and remove Cas' tie. "I have to know, though. Who gets all dressed up for a flight?"

"I went to the airport as soon as my last meeting was over. I wanted to get home." Cas unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. "I don't think I've ever been so happy for a delay in my life." He waited as Dean undid the rest of his buttons. "I know I haven't had as exciting of company before.

Dean ran his hands up Cas' chest, sliding them under the shoulder of the shirt and pushing it down Cas' arms. He took a step back and admired the view. "Holy shit, you were hiding all of that under all that fabric?" Dean bit his bottom lip and reclosed the gap between them. "I think that should be illegal."

"I bet you say that to all the guys." Cas chuckled as he grabbed Dean's hips and pulled him close.

"No." Dean shook his head as he whimpered. "Only the gorgeous ones in front of me who should not be wearing baggy trench coats and shirts that are too big for them." He wrapped his arms around Cas' neck and kissed him deeply and passionately while grinding against him.

Cas slowly guided Dean back towards the bed and gently pushed him so he was laying on his back "You are so beautiful, Dean. Has anyone told you that?"

"Just you." Dean shook his head. "You're the first."

"Well, be prepared to hear it a lot tonight." Cas climbed on top of Dean, straddling his lap. "That is, as long as you're okay with this." Cas' blue eyes sparkled playfully.

"You're on top of me, aren't you?" Dean sassed.

Cas smiled mischievously, "Just making sure you said yes and are sober enough to consent."

"Two beers, does not a drunk Dean make." Dean paused. "Yeah, that doesn't help my case. Get down here and kiss me." He pulled Cas' arms out and pulled him down for another kiss.

Dean found himself being rolled on top of Cas, and Cas' hands exploring his chest and shoulders.

Cas smirked. "I warned you. I find you completely beautiful. I want to admire you up close."

"I'm not finding an issue with this." Dean pushed himself up. "I am finding an issue with the amount of clothing we're still wearing." Dean traced his fingers down Cas' chest and stopped on a tattoo on his hip. "I recognize this language."

"Maybe you can tell me what it is." Cas winked as his fingers moved to Dean's jeans. He popped the button and slowly pulled down the zipper. "Kick these off for me."

Dean stood up and slid his jeans off, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. He climbed back up on the bed next to Cas, laying on his side and walked his fingers down Cas' chest and stomach. Dean made quick work of the button and zipper. He tapped Cas on the hip having him lift up so he could slide both the pants and underwear off in one fluid movement. Dean's breath hitched at the sight of Cas' cock. "Damn. What are the odds you have a condom on you?"

Cas chuckled. "This is the last thing I was expecting. So none."

"Me neither. But what I wouldn't give to be fucked by that." Dean wrapped his hand around Cas' already hard cock and started stroking it slowly, working out more precome.

Cas' eyes closed and his head fell back as Dean started playing with his cock. He took a deep breath and wrapped his hand behind Dean's head and pulled him in for a bolder, rougher kiss. Once satisfied that Dean wasn't going to stop, Cas let go and let his own hand wander down and slide under the band of Dean's underwear. Cas wrapped his own hand around Dean's cock and using the mess of precome that he found, started his own caressing of Dean's cock.

Dean whimpered, breaking their kiss. He rested his forehead against Cas', moaning and keening at the flicks and swishes of Cas' wrist.

Cas pulled his hand away, causing Dean to look up in surprise. Cas stole a kiss before laughing breathlessly. "Take off your boxers then come back." Dean pouted but listened, standing up and removing his boxers. As he finished removing them, Cas has sat up against the headboard, his legs out in front of him. "Come here, Dean."

Dean crawled back on top of Cas, straddling his hips. "This what you want, Cas?"

"Mhmm." Cas hummed contently as he wrapped his hands around his and Dean's cocks, holding them together. "Just like that." He looked up at Dean, who leaned down and nibbled along his neck and jaw. He let out his own whimper and thrust up into his hand and against Dean's cock.

Dean pulled back, and started rocking, adding his own sliding and grinding into the mix. He placed his arms over Cas' shoulders to keep him from falling over as he lost himself in each push and thrust and surge. Their mouths met in a heated frenzy, pleading and praying for release into blessed pleasure.

Cas moaned into Dean's mouth, his climax hitting first, and marking them both in thick ropes of white. Cas continued his assault on Dean's senses, continued until Dean pulled away and cried out in his own pleasure, adding his own come into the mix. Dean slumped forward, resting his head in the crook of Cas' shoulder, mewling softly as the quivers of his orgasm finished shooting through him.

"Dean?" Cas lightly kissed his cheek. "You alive over there?"

Dean nodded slightly. "Yep. Bedtime."

Cas laughed unreservedly. "You're sticky, I'm sticky. Shower first, then bedtime."

"Uh, yeah. You're right." Dean sat up and blushed. "You want to go first?"

"If it's not a small shower, perhaps we could shower together?" Cas leaned forward, placed another kiss on Dean's cheek.

Dean nodded and shrugged. "Yeah. that would be nice." He climbed off of Cas' lap and off of the bed.

"Just a shower, though. I do think we should get to bed. We both have flights to catch in the morning." Cas got down off of the bed, grabbed his underwear, and headed into the bathroom.

Dean hung his head and bit his lip. "You're right." Dean kicked himself. "Get the shower ready, I'll be right in." He grabbed his underwear and stopped to look in the mirror over the chest of drawers. He looked absolutely debauched, and he loved it. He just had possibly the best sex of his life, and it was going to be a one night stand. He met his eyes in the mirror. "Get over it, Winchester."

He turned and headed to the bathroom, determined to memorize every inch of Cas before the night was over.

That night, Dean and Cas curled up and fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, Dean woke up cold and alone.

He sat up and looked around the room. All of Cas' things were gone. His trench coat, his suit jacket, his satchel. All of the things that had been sitting on the sofa when they went to sleep were missing. He pulled the covers back, hopping out of bed, and checked the bathroom. Nothing was out of place from last night.

Dean walked back to the nightstand, where he left his phone to charge. It was seven in the morning. He lifted up his phone, and underneath it was a note.

_Dean,_

_I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. You looked so peaceful. I got a phone call, and I was able to get an earlier flight. <strike>I just</strike> I wanted to <strike>tell you</strike> thank you for last night._

_ <strike>If I'm being honest, I couldn't bring myself to wake you, because it would probably be hard to say goodbye. How stupid does that sound?</strike> _

<strike> __ </strike> _I hope you have a safe flight home._

_-Cas<strike>tiel</strike>_

Dean could barely make out the scratched-out words. What he wouldn't have given for Cas to wake him up. He folded up the note and slid it into his wallet before getting up and packing up the couple of small things he used back into his bag. After one last check of the room, Dean headed down to the lobby to grab a shuttle back to the airport, and head back to Kansas.

xxx

When Sam came to pick up Dean from the airport, he immediately knew something was different. Jo tried to pick on him, but Sam put his foot down and said it wasn't the time or place.

Suddenly in June, Dean was able to find a place out in the town, but it was a cold and empty bachelor pad. Their friends noticed, but Dean refused to talk about anything, so no one knew about Cas.

July started, and Dean appeared brighter. He went out with his friends again. He was back to hanging out at the roadhouse, shooting pool and shooting the shit. But when asked if he's seeing anyone, Dean would shake his head and go quiet for a while.

August rolled around, and school started back up. Dean appeared to be back into the swing of things. Back at KU, back in his office, back to being one-half of the mischievous Winchester professors. But Sam knew that something was still wrong.

September, Sam found Dean drinking on his balcony, a well-worn, well-loved note in his hand. Finally able to corner his brother, he learned about Cas and offered his brother help. Help to find him or help to move on. Dean admitted that he wasn't sure what he wanted, but promised that he was getting better. He knew that it was a one night stand, he knew he shouldn't dwell on it. But Dean wondered what if they had met at a better time or a better place. Sam called Jo and told her that he was staying the night.

Then November blew in.

xxx

Dean sat at his desk, reading over an essay one of his students turned in during class. He knew that being gone for as long as he was would mean that things would be a pain when he returned, but Dean honestly didn't think that he would have to teach a Freshman Anthropology course.

Sam waltzed in like he owned the place and sat down across from Dean. "So, a question for you."

"Me first. Don't you have your own office across the hall?" Dean looked up from the essay and shot his brother a look.

"I do. But my question is better, I promise." Sam leaned forward. "How'd you do it?"

Dean put the paper down and shifted his eyes from side to side before looking from side to side. "How'd I do what, Sammy?"

"I don't know how you hid this from me, but this is incredible!" Sam pulled a journal out of his back pocket. "You got a team of Forensics to look at the Lovers?"

"I..." Dean shook his head. "No, I. I had no clue. Adler blacklisted us from even touching the remains. Gave us credit for the dig, but won't let us within 100 feet of it. He doesn't want us to tarnish its reputation."

"Dude, Adler's not in charge of the Dig anymore! I thought you knew that. Taken over by some guy... Shurley." Sam pointed to the name. "Charles, Chuck, Shurley. We're not blacklisted anymore. That's why I thought you got the forensics team. Prove your theory."

Dean picked up the journal and started flipping through it. "They confirmed it? The lovers are two men?"

Sam looked at his brother and smiled. "You have people claiming that they're brothers and whatnot, but if they're able to pull clean DNA, which they may be able to do? You can tell Adler to go suck it."

Dean's phone rang, and he looked at it before looking at Sam, who frantically gestured for him to answer it. He picked up the receiver and tucked it under his ear. "Morning, Dean Winchester."

"Yes, Dr. Winchester?" A soft, nervous voice was on the other end of the line. "This is Chuck Shurley. How are you doing today?"

"Well, considering my brother just walked in here with a journal proving my theory, pretty freaking ecstatic."

"I thought you might be. We're having an official press conference in a couple of days, and we were hoping, since it was your dig, that you and your brother would be available to make an appearance."

"An official press conference?" Dean repeated so Sam could hear, "And you want both Sam and me?" Sam shook his head no adamantly. "What for and why do you need us?"

"Well, I know what Adler did to you and your brother and your team. He truly screwed you over. Let's just say what he did to you all, he won't ever be able to do again. And to try and erase LGBTQ history? Not my cup of tea. So I want to set the record straight. It was your theory. You said it from the get-go. Adler blacklisted you when you presented the evidence."

Dean looked at Sam and cocked his head in confusion. "I'm sorry, how do you know all this?"

"Academia is a small world, Dr. Winchester. Let's just say you have quite a fan club over at KSU. They asked to do the Forensics on the lovers, but they needed a bigger, badder patron who could take on Adler."

"I see."

"You will. So will we see you and Sam on Friday at KSU for the press conference?"

"Sam won't be able to make it." Dean earned a thumbs up from his brother, "But I will be there, can you send the information to my email address?" Dean rattled it off and had Chuck read it back to him, before thanking him and disconnecting the call.

Sam kicked his feet up on Dean's desk. "So."

"What the fuck is going on, Sammy?" Dean leaned back in his chair and kicked his own feet up. "I don't even know what this all is right now."

"Maybe you have a guardian angel?" Sam chuckled. "We should go to the Roadhouse tonight to celebrate."

"You better be paying."

Sam scoffed. "We'll sweet talk Ellen. She can't resist us."

"She'll start resisting you the day you put a ring on Jo's finger."

Sam almost fell backward out of the chair and shot a hard look at Dean before storming out of the office and going into his own.

Friday morning, Dean taught his Freshman Anthropology class and handed off his 200 level Archeology class to his TA for the day. He stopped in his office and changed into a nice suit before hopping into his Impala and taking the short drive over to KSU.

He followed the instructions given to him by Chuck and found his way to their Sciences building. A short, squirrelly man was waiting outside for him. "Dr. Winchester! I must say, your pictures don't do you justice."

Dean blushed. "You must be Mr. Shurley?"

"That I am, but please call me Chuck. I really don't like being Mr. Shurley." He offered his hand.

"Then I insist that you call me Dean. I only went after the Ph.D. to get to go to the bigger sites. I don't like being referred to as Doctor." Dean shook Chuck's hand.

"Sounds good. Only for introductions then." Chuck gestured in front of him. "So, there's only going to be three people talking. You, me, and the lead Forensic, Dr. Milton. It was his 400 Level class that did all the testing and proved your theory."

"I read the journal, and I appreciate that they did it. Do you know why?"

Chuck smiled. "I do. But I'll let Dr. Milton explain. It might be better if you hear it from him."

"Alright." Dean clapped his hands. "Are we doing a Q and A too?"

"If you and Dr. Milton are up to it." Chuck lead Dean into an auditorium where several journalists were already set up. "I'm going to sit in the middle. You're going to be on my left, C.J., uh, Dr. Milton, will be on my right. He's finishing up a class, but he'll be joining us as soon as he's done. There are a couple of cold bottles of waters between our seats. Need to take care of my stars." Chuck shot a pair of finger guns at Dean. "Why don't you go take a seat, I'm going to go find Dr. Milton, and we'll join you in a moment."

Dean made his way up to the stage, and after taking a moment to remember 'his left' from 'your left' he was able to figure out which seat was his. A couple of the journalists came up to introduce themselves, and to promise they would be gentle with him.

After a couple minutes, Dean heard Chuck speaking with someone. When the person - Dr. Milton, he presumed - spoke up, his heart skipped a beat, and his head snapped up to attention. Walking up the stairs behind the squirrelly patron was a mop of dark brown hair and sparkling blue eyes he thought he would never see again.

"Cas?"

A soft, sad smile curled up. "Hello, Dean."

It took all of Dean's willpower to not get up from the chair. He wasn't sure if he would run to or run away from the man who he thought would be just a memory.

"C.J., you want to sit? I'll get this started." Chuck smiled and winked at Dean before turning to the crowd. Cas sat as directed, and tilted his head at Dean to get him to focus on Chuck at least for now.

Dean reluctantly took his eyes off of Cas and turned to Chuck, who had begun his introduction. "Good afternoon, Ladies, Men, and Gentlethem, if you're not aware who I am, I am Chuck Shurley, author, screenwriter, entrepreneur, and now, a patron to the sciences."

Chuck waited for the applause to settle before he continued. "I know several people have asked me how I became a patron. About four months ago, Dr. Milton came to me. We've been friends for a very long time, and he needed someone who could help him. You see, he wanted to test a theory involving the remains of the Lovers of Modena. The only issue is that the Patron who funded the archeological dig was holding onto the remains, and wouldn't release them. He was holding them for personal profit.

"So, being the amazing friend that I am. I got the remains for him. It's a bit of a long story, that involves some legalities, getting the Italian police involved, et cetera, but they're now available for the scientific domain and proper preservation. As they should be." Chuck smiled as the room applauded again.

"Now, before I take up too much of your time, let me introduce you to two of the amazing team who made this happen! Lead Archaeologist, Dr. Dean Winchester, and Lead Forensic Anthropologist, Dr. C.J. Milton." Chuck gestured to the two men. "Come on, stand up!"

Dean and Cas both stood up and took a quick bow before retaking their seats. Chuck sat between them - and now Dean understood why - and turned to face him. "So, Dean, since you made the discovery, let's hear from you first."

Dean and Chuck spoke for a little bit, going over what those 18 months were like in Modena. He tried his best to not talk ill of Adler, but Chuck would occasionally corner him and get a little dirt out of Dean.

"What was the worst part of the whole discovery?" Chuck leaned forward, his elbow on the chair arm and his chin his knuckles.

"When I was silenced." Dean nodded. "The head honcho refused to even hear the reasoning for why I, along with the rest of my team, thought it was two men. While I knew the bones weren't the best-preserved sets we'd ever found, there were still too many markers that gave it away."

"Thanks, Dean," Chuck clasped Dean's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before turning to Cas.

Chuck followed the same format with Cas, asking questions, getting answers, and talking him through their findings. He finally got to a question that genuinely piqued Dean's attention.

"So, C.J., tell me. What was it about this case, this situation, that caught your attention?" Chuck turned in his seat and leaned back against the arm of the chair, Dean turned and leaned against the seatback.

"Would you believe it was a chance encounter?"

Chuck's head tilted to the side, and Dean couldn’t see his face, but he could almost guarantee that their patron was smirking. "Do go on."

"I met someone who was fascinated with the Lovers of Modena. You could say they had first-hand experience with it." Cas looked at Dean and smiled. "They spent over an hour telling me about the theory over a couple of drinks, and their love, their passion for what they do, their thirst for discovery, their need for the truth was just so evident."

"Sounds like you were fascinated, C.J."

Cas cleared his throat. "I couldn't let go of the theory. Not even a month or two later. That's when I reached out to you."

"And I'm so glad that you did! Now, if our gentlemen agree to it, I'm going to open the questions up to the floor."

Both Dean and Cas nodded, the two of them sharing a glance that promised they would talk when all was said and done.

A half-hour passed before Chuck finally wrapped up the Q and A session. He turned back to Cas and Dean, looking at Cas. "C.J., you have a lot to explain to Dean here. I'll wrap it up here. Why don't you go take him to your office."

"Thanks, Chuck." Cas gave Chuck a quick hug before leading Dean off the stage and out of the auditorium. He hung his head and quietly walked through the hallways before stopping in front of a door marked for Prof. Milton. "Would you like to come in?"

Dean nodded wordlessly and followed Cas into his office. Dean closed the door behind him and went to sit in the seat across from Cas' chair.

"They're a lot more comfortable than they look, I promise. My TAs demanded it." Cas offered as he sat in his seat, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

Dean sat and looked at Cas. "You were in Kansas, this entire time? You were literally an hour away." When Cas nodded, Dean spoke up again. "Cas, you knew I was at KU. I told you what I did. You didn't think, ‘Hey, I can look him up, reach out to him?’"

"I didn't know what to do," Cas whispered. "I'm often told that I'm too cold, but when I get close to someone, I'm told I get too close. I'm not good with my social cues."

"I woke up, and you weren't there." Dean shrugged. "I guess I suck at social cues too, but something felt different with you. I'm not saying it's love, but it was more than lust. I didn't even get a chance to find out." Dean pulled out his wallet and pulled out the note.

Cas tilted his head and put out his hand, taking the note from Dean. "You kept this?"

"Yeah. I don't know, I thought. I thought maybe I could find you somehow." Dean shook his head. "Did you mean all those things you said?"

"It wasn't the theory I couldn't let go of, Dean."

"And Chuck?" Dean sat back in the chair, conceding to himself that it was comfortable.

"My best friend from college. I told him about us after he dragged me for being a downer.” Cas leaned forward on his desk. “He writes a series of books under a pen name. He would kill me if I gave it out."

"Carver Edlund," Dean responded.

Cas paled. "How did you?”

"Your tattoo, Cas. I told you that I recognized the language. His books revolve around a fallen angel named Castiel."

Cas ran his hand down his face. "Are you a fan?"

"Archaeologist. How many times do you think I've seen Enochian on digs, Cas? I specialize in tombs and necropolises." Dean sighed. "Sammy. He tried to find out who Carver Edlund is. I remembered your tattoo was Enochian about three months ago. Sam's read all the books."

"So you figured he knew me."

Dean laughed. "That or you were a hardcore fan who gave me the name of an angel from a book to throw me."

"Castiel J. Milton, at your service." Cas extended his hand.

"Dean M. Winchester, at yours." Dean shook it firmly. "So you knew how to find me, why did you take the case?"

"To apologize," Cas stated plainly. "I thought that maybe if you saw that I was willing to go through such lengths to earn your forgiveness, that maybe you would give me a chance."

Dean leaned forward and crossed his arms on Cas' desk, resting them there. "A chance for what?"

"A chance to do this right. A chance to learn more about each other." Cas stood up and walked around the desk, handing the note back to Dean. "A chance to show you that I won't actually run away."

Dean took the note and put it back in his wallet, putting his wallet in his pocket before reclining in the seat again. "So what do you propose?"

"I'd like to actually you take on a date. Lots of them actually." Cas sat on the desk in front of Dean. "I want to find out what makes you tick. I want to see you smile when you talk about the things you love. I want to relearn all the things I didn't get a chance to memorize."

"That's an awful big request there, Cas." Dean swallowed and took a deep breath before standing up. "Are you sure you want it all?"

Cas nodded and hooked his fingers into the belt loops of Dean's pants, pulling him in between his legs. "I want all that and more."

Dean's mouth quirked up in a smile. "I'm glad, Cas." He leaned forward, his arms wrapped around Cas' neck as they kissed, a new promise to a better future together.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you into Destiel? Do you use Discord? Are you over the age of 18? Looking for a cool group of people to hang out with? Come join the writers, artists, and other amazing Destiel fans on the [Profound Bond Discord Server](https://discord.gg/profoundbond).


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